


Housewarming

by PrincessAmericaChavez



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, F/M, Fjorester Week, Neighbors, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 07:03:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18310595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessAmericaChavez/pseuds/PrincessAmericaChavez
Summary: Fjord might need some help to survive his cute neighbor's housewarming. If he's not careful, he might end up putting his foot in his mouth again or worse... falling in love.





	Housewarming

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first contribution to Fjorester Week 2019! I hope you enjoy it!

“So, tell me again, why am I here?” Beau grumbles, before shoving a fistful of corn chips into her mouth.

Fjord lets out a heavy sigh, glaring at his best friend from the mirror.

“Because you love me and won’t leave me to go face my neighbor’s housewarming party on my own?”

“I don’t love you  _that_ much, big guy.”

“C’mon, what’s so bad about it? It’s a party. We’ll work on your people skills.”

“If  _your_ people skills are so damn good,” Beau shoots back, “why do you need me to wingman at all?”

“Because I don’t know anyone else there, and there’s gonna be free booze. Also, I already kinda put my foot in my mouth with this girl before, would really appreciate some help to avoid doing it again.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Beauregard sits up on the couch, grinning. “Mister Perfect put his foot in his mouth.”

Fjord turns away from the mirror to ignore the blush crawling up his face and gives his gym buddy a half-hearted glare.

“Oh, c’mon. If you tell me, I’ll go.”

“It’s not a big deal. She’s just… very enthusiastic. I went by the other day to pick up a package that’d been dropped at her place while I was out and she was very nice and she kept asking if I wanted to go in for a cup of coffee or water or something.”

“She was hitting on you, so what? Girls do that all the time, Fjord.”

“They don’t. Thing is… I panicked,” Fjord mumbles rubbing the back of his neck. “I think I yelled something like ‘thanks, I don’t drink water,’ and I ran away. It’s a miracle that she even invited me over today.”

“Oh my god, dude!” Beau chuckles, jumping to her fit. She brushes off the chip crumbs from her shirt and tightens her messy bun over her head. “This girl makes you stupid. I’m so coming with you to see it in person.”

“Thanks, Beau. Appreciate the support,” Fjord deadpans.

Well, at least that’s something.

* * *

Before Fjord gets a second to gather his thoughts, Beauregard knocks on the door. Even through the thick wood and the faraway music, he can hear the clacking of heels rushing to the door that swings completely open to reveal the party’s hostess. His next-door neighbor.

Jester is pretty in a way Fjord’s never seen before. Sure, there’s conventional pretty like the girls from tv, and there are hot women in magazine ads, and there are beautiful women in the street’s every day… but something about this girl just throws him off balance. It might be the blue streaks on her short dark hair, or her nearly violet eyes, or her tan skin covered in freckles like a clear starry night out at sea. Or it might just be the way she beams at him as soon as she sees him awkwardly standing at her door, holding a bottle of wine and a grumpy college student.

“Fjord! You came!” She exclaims, and he’s shocked by how genuinely glad she sounds.

“Uh, hi, Jester. This is my friend, Beauregard.”

“Friends call me Beau, actually.”

“Oh! Can I be your friend?! Can I call you Beau?”

“Uh- sure.”

“Perfect! Come in! Come in!” Jester grabs them both by the hands and pulls them into her house with a strength that doesn’t seem to match her tiny size. 

The inside of Jester’s apartment is different than what he expected, and somehow exactly what he should’ve imagined. Sure, it’s very pink and colorful, and lively, but there’s a refined style in the decoration that screams money and taste. It might be the same size as his place, but it feels far more welcoming and cozy.

“Come on! I wanna introduce you to some friends!”

Jester hasn’t let go of either of them. She pulls them along towards the living room, where four other individuals are sitting around and talking. Fjord thinks it’s the weirdest mix of people he’s ever seen in his life. One of them has long purple hair and hippy clothes —real hippy and not whatever hipster stuff kids buy in Urban Outfitters— and he’s giving a card reading to a man with shaggy red hair and an unkempt beard. They both sit on the floor, being watched closely by two women: one tall and muscular, with dark makeup framing her eyes, and one short and scrappy that keeps taking long swings of her flask.

“Hey, everyone! This is Fjord!” Jester has no qualms interrupting their reading. “Fjord, this is everyone.”

“Oh, hey, Caleb,” Beau’s voice catches him off guard before he can even say hello. “What are you doing here?”

“Beauregard,” the redhead murmurs with a heavy German accent as he stands up. “I am here with my friend Nott. She’s a friend of Jester’s.”

“You are my friend too, Caleb!” Jester complains.

“Cool. I’m here with Fjord,” Beau says, pointing at him with a thumb. “Fjord, this is Caleb and that is his not-sister but not-girlfriend, Nott.”

Fjord shakes Caleb’s hand, as he tries really hard not say out loud that Nott sounds like a fake name. The more he looks at the short woman, the more he realizes he might not want to know the answer to that question after all.

Jester introduces the other two people: Molly and Yasha. From the second the woman stands up and comes to shyly shake their hands, Fjord knows Beauregard is a goner. He shouldn’t be surprised when, five minutes later, she’s disappeared from his side to go follow Yasha and her purple-haired friend elsewhere. And so, he is all alone with Jester.

“You know, you look very handsome, Fjord,” she says, as casually as one would comment on the weather. “I mean, I always thought you were handsome, but you look even better today.”

“Oh- uh- hum… thanks, Jester,” he manages to get out, thankful for once that his friend isn’t here to laugh at his flailing. 

“You want something to drink?” Jester asks, and without waiting for an answer she grabs him by the hand again and leads him across the apartment towards a table filled with bottles and sodas.

As they walk, Fjord’s eyes trail down to her small frame. She’s wearing a sundress with a sunflower pattern, the thin straps of which leave her neck and shoulders mostly uncovered. He can’t help but stare at the sunkissed skin and the trail of freckles that makes its way across her shoulder blades.

“What would you like to drink, Fjord?”

“I don’t know, what are you having?”

“A chocolate shake,” Jester shrugs. She says it casually but he can see the spark of satisfaction that crosses her face when he reacts with confusion. “Oh, I don’t like the taste of alcohol very much. I mean, I’ve had some before, but it’s really not fun to me. I like sweet things better. Also, it’s very funny when you are sober and all your friends are being drunk and stupid, really.”

Fjord lets out a loud chuckle. “Yeah, I bet it is. I’ll have a beer then.” Nothing too strong that will make him join the  _drunk and stupid_ team.

Speaking of. He turns around and sees Beauregard and Molly already arguing loudly with each other about… something. Music, as far as he can guess by the way they gesture to the vinyl collection in the corner. Jester is watching too, smiling.

“I’m so sorry about that,” he sighs.

“It looks like they are having fun,” Jester shrugs, handing him a beer. “Molly argues a lot with people. That’s how you know he likes them.”

“A’right,” he nods taking a sip. Jester slurps her milkshake and Fjord almost stares at her until he kicks himself into making conversation. “So, Jester, whatcha do for a living.”

“Oh, I’m a doctor.”

“You are?” Fjord’s eyebrows arch, maybe a little too much. He can see a hint of offense cross her eyes. “I mean, sorry, you don’t look the way I expect doctors to look.”

“Why? Because I’m too young?”

“Too pretty,” he corrects, without thinking. “I- I mean- most doctors are, you know, cranky old men.”

“They really are,” Jester giggles. “I’m actually finishing my residency now, and then I will start my specialization.”

“On what?”

“Cardiology. I’m all about the heart,” she says giving him a wink.

“I’m sure you are,” he ducks his head to hide the blush that crawls up his face.

“Come, I’ll show you the house,” Jester gestures for him to follow down the hallway.

Fjord stops by a big framed picture of a movie star. He recognizes the seductive smile, the dangerous curves, the long flow red hair, the old-Hollywood air that no other actress seems to have any more.

“The Ruby of the Sea. You must really like her movies,” he points out, taking another sip of beer.

“I’ve watched all of them!” Jester grins. “She’s my mom.”

“Marion Lavorre is your mother?!” Fjord all but screams. Jester shushes him immediately. “Sorry,” he lowers his voice. “I just didn’t even know she had a daughter.”

“Oh, yeah, well… I wasn’t out very much, you know? My mom was trying to keep me away from all the paparazzi and stuff when I was little, so I spent most of my time with private tutors at home.”

Fjord isn’t sure how to respond to that. He’s not sure if he’s jealous of the having a mother part, or saddened by the loneliness she describes.

“It was nice, you know,” Jester goes on, and he can tell by her tone she’s nervous as if she needed to fill the silence to justify her own past. He knows the feeling. “I had a lot of great teachers. I learned how to paint. I made most of the art in this apartment.”

“That’s very impressive, Jester. You’re quite an artist.”

“Thank you!” She grins.

“So why’d you move all the way to the east coast, then? Isn’t your mom in L.A.?”

“Well… it’s a bit of a complicated story, you know? If I told you I’d have to kill you.”

Fjord lets out a hearty laugh at that. 

* * *

“Hey, Jester, we are about to leave for the gig, you coming?” Molly announces a while later.

Fjord blinks at him, waking up from the past several hours where he’s enjoyed Jester’s non-stop stream of words. Time’s flown by and when he looks at his clock he realizes it’s past one in the morning.

“Of course we are coming! Fjord, you are coming, right? Molly is a DJ downtown and he’s very very good. Yasha works security in the club, too. It’s going to be so much fun!”

“Of course we are coming,” Beau gives Fjord’s arm a painful squeeze.

“Actually, I- Uh. I’ve got work tomorrow morning and-”

“Dude, you’re killing me.”

“Okay, okay, fine. I guess Beau will kill me if I say no.”

“I will.”

“Yes!” Jester jumps, clapping. “C’mon, everybody! We’re leaving!”

For the third time in the night, Jester grabs Fjord’s hand and pulls him along towards the entrance. 

* * *

Fjord meets a lot of interesting people at the club. Most of them he can’t quite put a name to, but he can tell everyone is happy to see Jester. He wonders, idly, if he should worry at all about the many guys tripping over themselves, trying to keep up with jester’s energy, but she holds on to his arm the whole time and keeps sending him smiles sweet as candy.

The only guy she actually seems to pay attention to, a friend from medical school who was apparently covering for her tonight. He looks nothing like a doctor either, tall, lanky and with a mohawk of long pink hair. He’s drinking something that doesn’t smell like tea and smoking something that doesn’t smell like cigarettes. But he’s nice.

Not nice enough that Fjord isn’t delighted when Jester pulls him away to a quiet corner.

“What?” He chuckles.

“I wanna show you something,” she whispers. If he didn’t know she’s been having chocolate milk all night long, he’d suspect her to be drunk. “Do you still wanna know why I came all the way here?”

“Yeah,” he breathes, entranced by the way her eyes sparkle.

With a tilt of her head, she leads him towards a back door. He follows closely. Of course, he does. At this point, he doesn’t know that he can do anything else. They exit to a narrow back alley, Jester pushes him against a wall and for a second he thinks he’s about to get a very welcomed make out session… but then she turns him around and makes him face the club’s back wall. 

There, on the brick wall, there’s a graffiti. It’s big, colorful, filled with sunflowers, jellyfish, a few little dicks hidden here and there. The signature reads: The Little Sapphire. 

“Woah, that’s-”

“Mine.”

“Wait. Wait. Wait. You mean to tell me  _you_ are Sapphire?!”

“I am! You see, one of my private tutors, he was an artist, and he told me people called him the Traveler.”

“The Traveler? People say that he’s the new Bansky.”

“Oh, Fjord, c’mon! He’s so much better than Bansky! He’s the best!”

“And he’s your teacher?”

“He is! Well. He was. Until I made this one thing in L.A… I had no idea that it was one of the big mob houses! It got all of the paparazzi attention and they got found out by the cops… So now these guys want me dead and I had to come here to lay low for a little while.”

“Mobsters.”

“Yep.”

“They… want you dead.”

“Kinda, yes.”

Fjord frowns again, feeling his chest knot. He looks at his tiny sunshine neighbor, imagines her in any sort of danger, and feels an old kind of fury burning in his veins.

“So,” Jester sing songs.

“So?”

“Are you gonna tell me what you are doing here? I mean, you are all mysterious. I see you come in and out every day, you work nine to five but then you spend all night out. What’s your story, Fjord?”

Deep breath. Fjord thinks about his past, about the orphanage, about Vandran. He thinks about his nightly search across New York, asking about a Texan sailor gone missing months ago under mysterious circumstances. He thinks about the Serpent mafia and all the danger he would put her in if he shared that with her.

All the danger he would put her in if he shared  _anything_ with her. All of the things already clouding his mind…

“I could tell you, but I’d have to kill you,” he grins, leaning closer. 

He can feel Jester stand on her tiptoes, her breath brushing his mouth.

“Hey, Jester! Come back in here! We are singing happy birthday!” Nott shouts from the backdoor.

“Coming!” She shouts back, pulls Fjord back and presses a chaste kiss to his lips. “You get the rest of that when you tell me your story,” she whispers, then runs away and back into the Nein club. 

Fjord stands there in the dark street while his brain tries to process what just happened. 

 _Oh, fuck him,_  he’s going to tell her everything. How could he not?


End file.
